Resigned
by amy.werner.794
Summary: Amanda unexpectedly resigns from the Agency, and Lee is determined to find out why. This two-part story is set late in season two. This story was written in response to a FB challenge to begin a story with the phrase, "What the hell did you do to him/her?".
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: "Scarecrow and Mrs. King" is the property of Warner Bros. and Shoot the Moon Productions. I enjoy borrowing their characters for entertainment purposes only.

"What the hell did you do to her," an aggrieved Lee bellowed at Francine across the full length of the bullpen.

Noticing that he didn't appear to be too steady on his feet, and suspecting that he'd signed himself out of the hospital despite his doctor's advice, she decided to try to mollify him. She strode across the room to where he stood glowering at her. His right arm was in a sling, and he was clenching his left hand so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"Billy isn't in at the moment, we can talk in his office," she coaxed him, while gently tugging him by his left hand. "I get the impression that this is going to be one of those conversations that we won't want overheard by everyone in the room."

"It's no skin off me, but I doubt that you'll want everyone to hear the details of what you did to Amanda," he countered, without making any effort to lower his voice.

"I should have guessed that this would be about her," the blonde agent observed as she shoved her co-worker into the empty office ahead of her. Following him in, she closed the door, and then turned on him. "Sit down before you fall over, and then tell me what it is that you think that I did to your precious Amanda?"

"She's not 'my Amanda', but she has become a good friend, and she never would have resigned if you hadn't said or done something awful to her."

"Well, well," Francine said smugly, seating herself behind Billy's desk, while Lee towered over her, his fingers splayed out on the blotter. "I was wondering why she was in here with Billy for so long earlier…I guess she's finally realized that she isn't cut out for this line of work."

"And you had nothing to do with her coming to that conclusion," he challenged in a normal speaking voice, as he slowly backed away from the desk.

"No, she was her usual eager-beaver self this morning, and then later when I was driving her to the hospital to see you she was eerily quiet, so we didn't say much to each other the whole time."

"Okay, so it isn't your fault, but I'm damn well going to find out who is to blame?"

He spun on his heel, jostling the gunshot wound in his right shoulder, fought off the wave of pain and nausea that threatened to engulf him, and took off before Francine could stop him.

Less than an hour later, he parked his car a few houses down from Amanda's, and rested his forehead against the steering wheel. There was a throbbing pain in the back of his head, and he was experiencing waves of mild dizziness, but he was a man on a mission. He had to find out why she'd left him-no, she hadn't left him he reasoned because you can't leave somebody unless you're involved with them, and they were just good friends, nothing more. He raised his head cautiously, took a deep steadying breath, and slowly got out of the car.

As he made his way across her darkened backyard, he hoped to catch her attention while she was washing the dinner dishes. Half way across the grassy expanse, he tripped over one of the boys' carelessly discarded toys, and uttered a string of expletives more loudly than he'd intended to, thus alerting Amanda to his presence. She quickly dried her hands and rushed outside to him.

They met as he stumbled closer to his usual spot beneath the kitchen window.

"Lee, are you okay, you look awful," she fussed, while taking hold of his uninjured arm to stabilize him. "You're supposed to be in the hospital, I know you hate it there, but you shouldn't have left there without a good reason, which I doubt that you have.

He was momentarily winded just from listening to her mini-ramble, yet as soon as she finished, he jumped right in.

"I probably would still be in the hospital if you'd been there when I woke up _the way you usually are_ , but you weren't and so I was worried about you."

"I'm alright, I didn't mean to worry you, and I did stay at the hospital until I was sure that you'd make a full recovery. The doctor said that you would need at least forty-eight hours of bed rest, and I'm pretty sure that that doesn't include passing out in my yard. C'mon, you're coming in the house with me right this minute."

"I can't go in there," he argued, struggling to stand up straighter, "your family is in there."

"I'm home alone, the boys are spending the night at a friend's house, and Mother is out on a date. You are coming inside because I refuse to be forced to call 911 when you keel over out here…your presence in my yard would be too difficult to explain. Now, move," she urged, as he found himself being strong-armed by a woman for the second time in the same evening.

She led him into the house, and gingerly helped him to sit down at the kitchen table. As he settled himself, she tried to covertly check to see if he was bleeding from either his shoulder wound or the gash in the back of his scalp which he'd sustained when he was thrown to the warehouse's concrete floor by the force of the gunshot. Satisfied that he hadn't aggravated his injuries, she hurried to get him a glass of orange juice and something to eat.

"Amanda."

His eyes tried to follow her as she rushed around the room, but he was having trouble focusing on her.

"Hmmm," she replied distractedly, as she concentrated on preparing him a healthy snack.

"Amanda…A-man-da, stop! We need to talk."

"About what," she asked with as much feigned nonchalance as she could muster.

Her mouth was dry, her heart was raising, and she desperately wanted to avoid answering the question that she was certain that he'd come to ask.


	2. Chapter 2

"Talking can wait," Amanda stated in her best mom-voice, "the first thing that I plan to do is get some food into you. You look pale, and you're starting to perspire, your blood sugar must be very low…I bet you haven't eaten a thing all day. Drink this," she demanded, as she placed a glass of juice in front of him.

He felt awful, and he was in no mood to be fussed over, but the cool beverage was too inviting for him to pass up, and so he picked up the glass and quickly downed its contents.

"See, I knew you needed that," she affirmed smugly. "You should sit there and rest while I finish making your sandwich. I think ham and cheese will fix you right up," she advised him as she quickly returned to the comestibles that she'd abandoned on the counter by the refrigerator.

"I'm not hungry," he argued, but his growling stomach betrayed him, much to his consternation.

"Really?" She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, essentially daring him to deny the obvious.

"Well, I guess a light snack wouldn't do me any harm," he conceded with a sheepish smile. "But we are going to talk-you can't put me off indefinitely!"

"I didn't think that I could," she replied, while deliberately not meeting his probing hazel eyes. _Once he gets past being angry, he'll realize that I made the right decision…I hope._

Fifteen minutes later, he'd devoured the sandwich and three cookies that he'd been unable to resist when she'd offered them.

"Thanks, that really hit the spot!"

He favored her with a dimpled grin, and removed the napkin from his lap and placed it on his empty plate.

"You're welcome," she replied. She returned his smile, however he noted that hers didn't reach her eyes.

"Back to business," he stated, rubbing his hands together anxiously as he watched her sitting rigidly across the table from him.

"Were we discussing business?" _I can't put this off any longer, but I don't know how I'm going to get through this if he keeps watching me so intently._

She took a cookie from the dish that sat between them, and broke it into small pieces that she began to shuffle around on the napkin in front of her. When he could no longer stand the unnatural silence between them, he reached out and stilled her hands with his own.

"Amanda, talk to me," he implored, "why did you resign?"

"Because I realized that you need a real partner…a fully trained agent, not a civilian tag-a-long."

"She lied to me," he muttered, pushing back from the table.

"Who lied to you?"

"Francine, I knew you wouldn't have quit unless she'd said something to upset-"

"The nerve of you," she railed, brown eyes flashing angrily. "Do you actually think that I'd resign from a job that I really…that I'd quit because my feelings were hurt?"

"What am I supposed to think?" He raked a hand through his hair, and tried to get his feelings under control. "If there was a reason that only involved _us_ our partnership, then you would have discussed it with me, instead of resigning without my knowledge."

"I couldn't discuss my decision with you because you would have tried to talk me out of resigning," she confessed forlornly. "You may not think so, but you do need a partner who's an agent."

"No, no, no," he rose from the table and began to slowly pace next to it. "I can't work with a traditional Agency-issue partner, it would never work out- you know me…I don't play well with others. There are times when I infuriate you, and you've got the patience of a saint."

"You'd be safer if you had a normal agent as a partner."

"Did you just use the words 'normal' and 'agent' in the same sentence," he asked in a failed attempt to lower the tension level between them.

"Don't try to be cute."

"I don't have to try, I'm naturally cute, but we're getting off-topic here. Why are you suddenly worried about my safety?"

"I've always worried about your safety," she countered, still not wanting to look at him, "but this morning I finally had to admit to myself that I'm a hindrance to your well-being."

"A hindrance to my well-being," he echoed her in a mocking voice, as he came to a halt at her feet. "This from the woman who wouldn't talk to me until she'd fed me a healthy snack."

She stood up and shook her head sadly, their eyes finally meeting.

"That's just it; I'm fully qualified to look after you in that way, but I can't protect you from the bad guys…this morning proved that. A real partner would have been able to back you up properly-he or she would have had a gun and been prepared to use it…unlike me."

"So that's what this is about."

He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders.

"For someone who prides herself on having a logical mind, you've just experienced a major logic meltdown. Sit back down, and let me tell you how I see today's events, I think you owe me that much. Don't you?"

"I guess so," she replied warily, as they returned to their seats.

He knew that he'd have to choose his words carefully, if he were to succeed in getting her to withdraw her resignation. He'd been fairly successful in talking her into things in the past, but he'd usually had time to strategize in advance. In this instance, when the stakes were the highest, he'd have to wing it.

"Amanda, after working with me for two years, you know me _probably better than anyone else ever has_ pretty well, so you must have noticed that I don't do things by the book. Would you agree?"

"Yes, but what difference does that make?"

"I tend to go my own way; I follow my own hunches, and pursue leads whenever the spirit moves me. Even if I did have an official partner, I'd still be prone to going off alone. I'm reckless by nature," he fairly bragged.

"I've noticed that, but I fail to see what that has to do with what happened today."

"I got shot because I was working a case without a partner, official or otherwise, the fault is mine alone. If you hadn't had the courage to risk your safety by coming after me, I'd have bled to death. The only reason that I'm not dead is that you, Amanda King, are my partner. Billy told me that he and Francine didn't realize that I was in any trouble. They thought that I'd engaged in my typical Friday night activities, and was sleeping off my overindulgence someplace. You know me well enough to have figured out that I'd come back to the Agency after we'd all left together, and come up with a new lead. How'd ya do it?"

"Sure you have an active social life, but you never let it get in the way of working an important case so I figured that you'd need my help this morning. You weren't in the bullpen when I arrived, but I could tell that you'd spent most of the night at your desk. Your trash can was full of junk food wrappers and a take-out box from The Seafood Shack, the place that's down the block from Augie's new…establishment. I was worried because leads from him tend to involve complications, so I persuaded him to tell me what he'd told you-"

"And despite the potential danger, you risked your safety to back me up."

He looked at his civilian partner with unmistakable awe, and she ducked her head and blushed.

"How could I not? I'm your partner, and that's what partners do for each other. I thought my heart was going to stop when I heard the gunfire. You needed help-"

"And you ran in the opposite direction?"

"Of course not, I made noise to scare the shooter off, and after I saw him take off in his car, I ran to a pay phone and called the Agency. After Mr. Melrose assured me that help was on the way, I rushed back to you and performed first aid until the EMTs arrived."

"You did what any partner would do in that situation, and I'm very grateful. I can understand why you'd want to pack it in after you had such an intense experience." _C'mon Amanda, show me some of your fiery spirit, don't let me imply that you were cowed by one very bloody morning._

Considering his words, she sat up straighter in her chair, and fell into the trap that he'd set for her.

"I didn't resign for my sake, I resigned because you need to work with someone who can-"

"Blow the bad guy's head off in a single shot."

He hated to push her so hard. She winced, and for a split second he regretted his words, but then she fought back.

"No, violence isn't the only option, but I wish that I could back you up more effectively in extreme situations. Since I can't-"

"Can't what? Can't learn to use a gun proficiently? You haven't shied away from learning anything else that an agent needs to know. You keep demanding additional training-are firearms lessons more than you can handle?"

He could see the wheels in her head turning, as her chin jutted out, so he went in for the figurative kill.

"Maybe, Billy can find you a spot in the steno pool? I know he doesn't want to lose you entirely."

"That won't be necessary, Partner, there's nothing that I can't learn to do if I'm given the right incentive. It won't be easy, but I don't trust anyone else to watch your back as carefully as I would."


End file.
